Bathwater
by eden alice
Summary: “What I wouldn’t give for you dear General O’Neill to see you know.” Sometimes we never really know the people we are closest to.
1. Default Chapter

Bathwater

Author's notes- I'm a little unsure about the rating for this so it may change over time. I just want to say that I'm writing this out of a need to show a different side of Sam and hopfuly still stay in character. A warning now this will be a dark story. Anyway, please read and reply. I love feedback!

Sam threw her car keys casually on the island kitchen counter as she walked through her house trying to ignore the fact that she felt like a stranger in her own home. The sound of metal against plastic was loud, shattering an annoyingly humble silence and gave Sam a very selfish feeling of satisfaction.

She negotiated round her kitchen in darkness having been too tired to turn the lights on, dreading remembering how long it had been since last time she had returned to this place and what condition her potted plants would be in.

Stubbing her toe against a chair leg she cursed softly under her breath frustrated. Finally her fingertips met with the cool solidness if her fridge. Opening the door she winced as a bright artificial light cut through the silent night. Sam narrowed her eyes sleepily as she reached inside feeling as if she was a criminal on the run suddenly caught in a hot searchlight red handed.

Unaware at why she was feeling so guilty and on edge Sam pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind trying to focus on those nice basic thoughts; food, warmth, sleep. Pulling an open milk carton out of the otherwise bare fridge she sniffed it curiously only to turn her nose up at the sour smell that met her nostrils. She really had not been home for a while.

And that was the problem. Somehow this object of wood, brick, concrete and glass was inspiring the same feeling of guilt you would feel for abandoning a puppy. It was not a comforting thought when you realised you would feel more comfortable sleeping in an itchy military issue bed on the base or in some sweaty sleeping bag off world.

It was not the issue of comfort or the fact that she spent all her time working whether or not she needed to but compared to the SGC this place was boring and empty. Reminding her that she had recently thrown away the little life she had outside the military world. It was not as if she enjoyed always having to fight for her life but after doing so for so long coming back to the real world always made her feel like an outsider.

Helping Mrs Robinson from next door across the road or fixing Mr Dixon's car were normal friendly things to do but it was impossible to look at this side of her life in the same way after everything she had seen and did.

Scolding herself mentally for once again thinking too much Sam absently closed the fridge door with a yawn. Ridiculously the position of her bin had slipped from her memory (probably replaced with something to do with control crystals or ancient technology) so she dumped the milk on the counter planning to tidy up some point in the future after she had slept for a long time.

Walking through to the living room she was guided by a small amount of soft light that crept through gaps in curtains from orange street lamps. As food was out of the question Sam decided the most satisfying course of action would be to curl up in her nice warm soft bed and order a pizza or something when she woke up.

Already dreaming of sleep she started to remove her jacket and top before she even reached the living room dumping the clothes unceremoniously on the sofa as she kicked of her shoes grateful that she had changed before she left the base so she did not have to deal with clumpy boots.

With one hand she quickly undid the back of her bra throwing the confiding garment onto the growing pile of fabric, the cold air refreshing against her bare skin. Bending over to remove her socks she jumped in surprise as someone grabbed her harshly from behind.

Straightening up quickly she felt her attacker behind her. The attacker smelt male, a mixture of sweat, leather and cigarettes graced her nose. He was taller and wider that she was with rough hands holding her tightly against him around her waist. Fingernails dug into her soft flesh causing her hiss in pain.

Her back was flat against cold, wet slippery leather and she was reminded that it had been raining. A head dipped towards her ear as she struggled and a low gravel like laugh filled her ears.

"Careful you don't get yourself hurt girly girl." The mocking words whispered to her disturbed the silence as much as any louder sound. The voice was filled with a dangerous promise that she did not doubt.

Refusing to give in Sam continued to struggle brining a leg up only to slam it back down on a boot-coated foot as hard as she could. The gruff laughter was replaced with an angry grunt of pain.

"Of course, you might enjoy getting all hurt." The voice mumbled cruelly holding her tighter so that she was forced to hold still.

As he spoke a callous hand snaked up her chest to roughly fondle a breast. At the same time he ran his nose up the curve of her neck taking in her smell like a territorial animal. Lips hovered inches from skin so that she could feel hot breath against her neck before sharp teeth sunk into tender flesh.

The attacker smiled with thin lips at her reaction. Feeling Sam wince in pain and her body react to his controlling touch as a nipple hardened under hand. Her reaction to the pain was to try to escape. Pulling her body forward it was as if Sam was held by an elastic band and she found herself held closer to the large frame behind her than before. With her slim form bucking against him her attacker was in no doubt that she felt his own arousal dig into her lower back.

"Bastard!" She provoked angrily.

"Don't play all innocent now girly, I know you love playing dirty just as much as I do." He loosened his hold on her refusing to rise to the bait she had set so that Sam could twist round in his arms but not escape his hold.

Once facing him the smug smile the littered the corner of his lips and his acid green eyes sparkled with obvious arrogance only to serve to increase both her anger and her arousal. With her chest firmly against his biker jacket she was suddenly too hot and uncomfortable in the clothes that held the lower half of her body.

The familiar face of her attacker moved as if to open that annoying mouth again and make some kind of comment. Knowing that if she had to listen to this idiot any longer she was not sure if she would be able to stop herself from reaching for her side arm (which she still wore on her hip) and blow his brains out. As she did not want to have to spend hours cleaning jerk brains from her carpet she reframed from that idea choosing instead to silence him with her lips.

The kiss was violent and passionate, pure lust. Lips, teeth and tongue fight for dominance as hands grope mindlessly. During the blind fight Sam found herself being slammed against a wall, the wind knocked from her lungs. Taking Sam's breathlessness as an opportunity her attacker fondled the inside of her thigh, kissing her deeply at the same time so that she could not gulp down a needed breath.

By the time the kiss had ended Sam took in air hungrily noticing for the first time that he had somehow removed her pants and panties as well as letting his own lower clothes fall into a pool around his ankles without her realising. A hand held its place between her thighs.

"What I wouldn't give for you dear General O'Neill to see you know." Her attacker gloated before picking her up so that Sam had to rap her long smooth legs around his waist. Her back grazed by the rough wall was the last thought on her mind as he entered her.

Maybe she could live dangerously at home…


	2. Chapter Two

Author notes- Thank you so much for the reviews. Some more please will be highly appreciated. I'll even give you a chocolate muffin if I haven't eaten them all. Sorry this has taken so long A level work just seemed to pile up. Especially Theatre Studies work. Never mind, in around, eight weeks it will be all over. Oh shit…

Two 

General Jack O'Neill leaned back on his office chair letting the leather make a rewarding squeak beneath him.

He was well aware that the growing piles of paper work wobbling dangerously in his 'In' tray partially shielded him from anyone on the other side of the see through wall. He had just started to wonder for the hundredth time how Hammond had stayed sane with the mundane paper trail that came with the position of base CO when he was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door.

Making a noise that would be interpreted as an invitation to enter Jack quickly sat up straight in his chair. He rested his elbows on the desk and clasping his fingers together hoping to appear collective and slightly intimidating just as the door started to open.

He was not surprised to see Walter standing in the open doorway even if he had just left Jack in peace, all but five minuets ago.

"What a coincidence running into you here." Jack remarked unable to help himself from adding a sarcastic jolliness to his tone. Well a man had to get his kicks from somewhere.

"Sir?" Walter replied not quite understanding the comment or pretending not to understand it, as he was not sure how to reply to such sarcasm and still sound respectful of a senior officer.

Jack did not know which was true and he had did not have time to give it too much thought as he noted the slight breathlessness to Walter's voice and the way his flustered appearance. Must be something important.

"What is it Walter?" Jack asked brining the other mans mind back to the matter at hand.

"Well sir, we appear to have a security breach a man was arrested trying to enter topside…"

Jack raised his eyebrows "We _appear_?" He asked finding the other mans choice of words strange when it was a clear breach of security. It annoyed him Jack always preferred directness.

"What?" Walter asked this time clearly lost.

"What?" Jack replied confused by Walter's lack of understanding. Why couldn't he just smile as if he gets it like Carter does? As Walter started to speak again Jack imagined Sam's bright smile on Walter's drawn face and concluded that it was far less creepy if only Carter understood his sense of humour, it also made it all the more special.

"He seemed very agitated General, we almost had to sedate him. He seemed to know more than he should do about the um, classified nature of our work here and demanded that he talks to you."

Jack sighed tiredly rising from his comfortable chair feeling his left knee protest stiffly from being stuck in the same sitting position for so long, his last hopes of the rest of the day being quiet and uneventful were lost.

"Just as I was planning to have some cake." He muttered walking past Walter and out the open door knowing the other man would follow faithfully.

"So where is our new friend being held?"

The airman closed the heavy door behind Jack before turning back around into the same statue like pose of awareness that mirrored the way the airman on the opposite of the door was standing.

Jack hid a wince as the door closed with a drawn out creek. The doors really needed oiling maybe he could add it to Walter's duties. What was it that he did anyway besides annoy Jack?

With the door tightly shut Jack was stuck in the dingy light that barely illuminated the row of holding cells. The quietness and the imposing nature of this area meant that Jack spent as little time in it as possible, brought back too many memories. He had been in many prisons, jails, hoosegows, holding units, slammers, and clinks to see a wide variety of designs and styles. But the one thing remained the same was the dark oppressive feeling that made his stomach twist painfully.

There was an uncomfortable however familiar silence until the sound of unsteady footsteps and the high sounds of a mumbling voice near hysterical. Placing his hands safely in his pockets Jack walked towards the sounds appearing casual with his body language while his trained eye took in the details of the man before him.

The man could only be described by one word, average. There was nothing distinctive about him at all; he was the type of man that no one ever gave a second look. He was average height and average build on the verge of being called cubby but not quite there yet. He wore smart clothes that were expected from anyone who worked in a stuffy office only they were crumpled and dirty as if he had been wearing them for a long time.

He paced agitatedly in the cell still muttering incoherently as if he had not noticed Jack arrive. By his face Jack guessed the man was a few years older than he was. His eyes were small and slightly glazed over behind crooked glasses. His cheeks glowed red showing his frustration. In the bad light Jack could not quite tell but he was sure that the man's sandy brown hair was thinning.

After a long moment Jack had seen enough, he cleared his throat loudly leaning his hip against the wall of the cell opposite and watched carefully for a reaction.

"General Jonathan O'Neill? Well of course you are. I should know I've seen your file enough times." The man still spoke as if he was muttering to himself his voice erratically switching pitch.

"Yes, and you'd be?" Jack asked back loudly as he was not sure if the other man could hear him, He winced once again at the sound of his full name being used. He hated how serious it sounded.

The man stopped pacing and stared at Jack with clear confusion as he sat on the bunk behind him. "Who am I?" He asked before pausing for another long moment.

"Oh, how silly of me. You have no reason to know who I am. Its not like I'm important, Mr Bernard Skinner has never been important, have you Bernie?"

Tilting his head sceptically Jack regarded the man as yet another nut job that seemed to be drawn to him why did this always happen when he the commissary had toffee cheesecake? Was it a conspiracy to stop him enjoying sweet sticky goodness?

"So…Bernie, what can I do for you?"

"I need you to protect me, to send me through the gate before its too late." Bernard stood up punctuating the urgency of his words.

"Gate?" Jack posed ignorance hoping to find out just how much this mad man new about the Stargate.

Bernard seemed offended for a second at Jack's reaction. "There is no need for ambiguity General, I know all about Stargate programme. I work for the Trust." He announced as if he expected Jack to react in shock. When Jack didn't he went back to his pacing.

"The Trust." Jack repeated sceptically drawing out the sounds of the words with his tongue. Bernard looked nothing like and members of the Trust he had met before. They had all been decisive with an arrogant, self-important air of madness. While this man was plain, plain looking and pain crazy.

"We don't all look like James Bond villains General. I don't even remember how, when, why I became involved." Bernard's brow knitted into a frown of consecration as he continued to move.

"Okay, now why would the all powerful Trust need my protection?" Jack could not help but take a moment of pleasure at the enemy snivelling for his help even if he did not believe Bernard yet.

Jack's pride stroking was cut short when Bernard let out a high pitch hysterical laugh. Tears fell unashamedly down his chubby cheeks.

"Because I don't want to die like the others. Oh God don't let them kill me. I'm not important. Bernie has never been important enough to be murdered. Please, don't let them kill me." He collapsed to the floor as his tears started to flow freely leaving Jack to look on uncomfortable, a grave expression forming on his face.


End file.
